The Demon Within
by XtremeAuthor
Summary: Harry, on the brink of death, is put through an obscure ritual that even Dumbledore knows little about. As Voldemort tears apart England and begins his quest for global domination, will good triumph in the end or will darkness swallow the world? AU. HHr
1. Broken

**PLOT: **AU. After the Department of Mysteries, Harry is captured, Sirius is alive, and hope seems to be lost. Sometime later, the Chosen One is found lying before the gates of Hogwarts, his body mangled and broken, his mind almost gone. As he is on the brink of death, Dumbledore makes a very difficult and irreversible decision. Once made, Harry is changed forever....

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter is not mine. DARNIT!

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** The Demon Within**

_Broken

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_

_Somewhere in England..._

Harry opened his eyes, but he could see nothing. The darkness was complete, stifling, and frightening. He tried to move, but found that he could not. He shivered as he felt the cold settle into his skin. Where was he? What happened? Where were the others? The thought struck him that perhaps he was dead, but he quickly discounted that. He didn't think he was.

The sound of footsteps echoed all around him and he tried vainly to see anything. Suddenly, a blast of light accompanied by the sound of a very heavy door opening blinded him. His eyes shut tightly, protesting against the sudden exposure to light. Rough hands grabbed him and he tried to say something, but found that he could not speak either. His voice failed him and all that rewarded him of his efforts was a slight moan that escaped his lips.

There was a pause, as if his captors were surprised by his making a sound, and then he was struck hard in the face and the darkness engulfed him once more.

* * *

"Harry..... Harry... come now, boy, wake up..." an amused voice whispered into his ear. The voice was so very familiar, but he could not remember who it was. He struggled to move, but his body did not respond. Opening his eyes, Harry saw that the world around him was a blur; his glasses had been knocked off sometime beforehand. The person that had been whispering into his ear stood before him, but he could not see who it was, and his sluggish mind did not help matters.

"Ah.... Excellent! I appreciate you joining us today, Harry, it is quite... delightful that you are here."

Harry still could not identify the figure speaking to him.

"I must say, your little stunt at the Department of Mysteries was unexpectedly challenging, but you played into our hands very well at the end," the figure drawled on. It was a male voice, somewhat deep and with a hint of disdain. There was definite pleasure in the voice; whoever the man was, he was happy, and Harry thought that to be a bad thing.

A door opened somewhere and Harry heard footsteps come closer until he could feel the breath of whoever it was that stood directly behind him. Harry shivered again, though he wasn't sure if his body actually did or if it was all in his mind.

"Harryyy...... Potterrr...." a voice that Harry instantly recognized whispered into his ear, and that was when Harry knew that he was going to die.

"Yessss, Potter. You will die soon enough, but first, a little entertainment," Voldemort said with a cold glee. "Crucio!" he hissed and Harry felt his whole body erupt in pain. Dull knives seemed to be scraping his skin off and he felt like his insides were ripping apart. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. He tried to move, to do anything, but he could not. He stayed completely still, the only place he could react was within himself, and even then his mind was being overwhelmed by the pain.

Then it stopped, so suddenly that for a moment he thought he was dead, but upon opening his eyes he saw two blurry figures before him and knew it was not over.

"You have troubled me for the last time, Harry. Foolish of you to go against me, really... had you joined me instead, you would have been great. Now, here you are, broken and powerless...." said Voldemort, stepping closer enough to Harry that he could make out his snake-like face.

"Today, the Chosen One falls. Tomorrow," Voldemort spoke, "the world. Nothing will stop me. The prophecy is false," The Dark Lord cackled, an inhuman sound that ringed with malice, and then with a sudden flash of light Harry knew no more.

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..._

The rain pelted the windows with a fury as the wind blew with such force as to rattle the windows even more. Thick, dark clouds covered the sky for miles and streaks of lightning tore through the sky as the ensuing claps of thunder echoed with loud booms. In the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore stood by one of the windows, his gaze faraway and his hands tightly held behind his back.

Fawkes crooned, bringing the old headmaster out of his thoughts. He turned towards his desk and eyed the fiery red and orange phoenix that stared back at him. Suddenly, Fawkes leaped off his stand and in disappeared in a flash of flame. Slightly alarmed and very curious, Dumbledore closed his eyes and concentrated hard, using the connection he had with Fawkes to allow his mind to meld with his phoenix.

He felt pain, a terrible pain, coming from somewhere below. The wind was blowing powerfully and it was difficult to fly, and it was hard to see as the rain was thick and heavy. Dumbledore tried to discern where Fawkes was, but was unable to due to the poor visibility. Then suddenly, Fawkes dove towards the ground, and the feeling of excruciating pain and sorrow became stronger.

A figure started to appear as Fawkes leveled off, his wings beating powerfully and quickly as the wind buffeted him. The figure was sprawled on the ground, and Dumbledore could tell that whoever it was, he or she was severely injured. Communicating with Fawkes, Dumbledore broke the mind-melding and rushed to the infirmary, where he had instructed Fawkes to bring the stranger.

Somehow, Dumbledore had a terrible feeling that he knew who it was.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey scrambled out of her room as she heard the doors slam open and the headmaster calling her name in a very urgent manner. A flash of flame startled her for a moment before she realized it was Fawkes. She turned to see what the problem was when she saw the figure on one of her beds. She held up a hand to her heart and the other to her mouth as she felt both stunned and sick at the same time.

She had seen many injuries before, many different wounds and afflictions, but never had she seen someone so terribly and horribly mangled and broken. The figure was extremely dirty and was covered in mud and drenched with water. Blood was already seeping into the sheets as uncountable gashes and cuts covered the figure's skin. She could already tell that there were multiple bones broken; all fingers, both arms, legs, knees, and possibly even the neck. She saw that the chest was partially collapsed, so there were a few broken ribs and possibly collapsed lungs as well. There was definite internal bleeding.

The face was badly beaten, evidenced by the broken nose, multiple missing teeth, and extreme swelling that indicated broken bones all over. Both eyes were swollen shut, and blood was coming out of the ears and the nose. It was terrible, and she wondered how the figure could be alive.

Dumbledore stood over the stranger. Slowly, he reached for the figure's head and pulled back the dirty hair that hung over the figure's forehead. Madam Pomfrey gasped and nearly fainted when she saw the faint outline of a lightning-bolt scar.

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**Author's Notes: **Reviews?


	2. By A Thread

**DISCLAIMER:** JK Rowling owns HP, not me.

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** The Demon Within**

_By A Thread  


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_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..._

Madam Pomfrey was close to exhaustion, her magic reserves nearly depleted, and she had already used everything she could think of to heal the boy. Despair started to grip her as she eyed once more the broken and battered body of Harry Potter. Whatever dark magic produced the injuries that Harry had, the magic was extremely powerful, and she knew who had done it to him. All her healing prowess was enough to only heal the lightest and slightest of his injuries. He was still mangled, and after hours of working, she could not help but feel that she was unable to help him.

All the times she had seen him hurt, she had always managed to nurse him back to health. This time..... This time she was starting to realize that she could not do so anymore. She looked at the headmaster, who had been standing there for hours, helping to keep Harry grounded in the real world and prevent him from slipping over to the other side, and she knew that without him there she would have already lost Harry.

Two other professors were there, one face full of emotion, the other blank and unreadable. McGonagall and Snape stood off to the side, eyeing Harry, lost in their own thoughts. Yes, Severus Snape was helping to heal Harry. He had not said a word since he had arrived, though he had been helping Madam Pomfrey to heal Harry by giving her potions he already had and also making a few that she needed.

The nurse turned to Dumbledore, eyes filled with helplessness, and said, "I..... I cannot do this, Albus. I am not able to h-help him......"

Dumbledore looked at her, sadness in his eyes. The familiar twinkle was dull and weak, and deep in his thoughts he was wrestling with himself, trying to find a way to bring Harry back. He also was unsure if he would be able to save Harry. He was so badly mangled by dark magic that healing him normally would take a very long time and would also not completely heal him. He would remain a cripple for the rest of his life, and as long as he had the power to prevent that, he would try to find a way to bring him back to full health.

"Headmaster, if I may suggest something..." Snape paused, eyeing Dumbledore, who nodded ever so slowly. "Perhaps.... it is time for more... desperate measures."

"Desperate measures?" McGonagall asked suddenly, both suspicious and curious. She still did not trust the man, no matter how much he had helped them thus far. It was better to be cautious after all.

"Precisely," Snape replied, his face betraying no emotions.

"Explain, Severus," Dumbledore finally spoke. He was desperate for any suggestions, something to get his own thoughts moving.

Snape was silent for a few seconds, organizing his thoughts, and then he told them, "We know that healing Mr. Potter through conventional means will not bring him back to full health. He will, unfortunately, remain crippled in some way. That is, I am sure we all agree, unacceptable in light of Mr. Potter's.... responsibilities."

There was silence as everyone, even Pomfrey, listened to him with their full attention. The labored breathing of Harry was the only thing that broke the silence.

"I believe the only way we can restore Mr. Potter to his full potential and health is through some ritual. Please, hear me out. It is the only way to save him," Snape said the last part seriously, his eyes darting to McGonagall who had gasped at the mention of using a ritual to heal Harry.

"There must be some much safer, but still strong enough ritual to reforge Mr. Potter's body, and perhaps mind, anew. I know some of the dark magic that's been used on him; I have seen the Dark Lord use it before. It is extremely powerful, and I am not sure if even you yourself, Headmaster, could undue the damage he has wrought on Mr. Potter, given time to study and counteract the magic on him," Snape paused, "It is the only way."

Again there was silence, this one stretching on for what seemed like hours.

"You cannot be seriously considering this course, Albus? Surely you are not?" McGonagall asked, wide-eyed.

Dumbledore turned to her, his expression very grave and very serious. How he felt his age! If only there was another way, but Severus was right, his logic was undeniable. But what ritual? He would have to ask the other headmasters as quickly as he could. "I am afraid he is right, Minerva. There is no other option, lest we wish him to be crippled forever," he said with resignation.

"I.... I... protest..." her voice faltered, but then she nodded, though she said nothing else.

"Very well, I will look into the matter with haste. Severus, stay here and help Madam Pomfrey with keeping Harry with us. Minerva, I suggest you get some sleep and I ask you not to mention this to the other staff members. I will seal the infirmary until this business is done," and with that Dumbledore left, McGonagall following shortly after him.

* * *

It had taken hours to find the best possible ritual, and even then Dumbledore was sure he had not checked all of them. The portraits of the other headmasters all had differing views on using rituals, though the majority agreed that with the circumstances facing Dumbledore, a ritual was indeed the only way, short of Dumbledore, and anyone else for that matter, killing himself trying to rid Harry of all of his injuries.

They were in one of the unused dungeons, which was usually sealed during the school year. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye and Sirius stood around Harry, who lay on a stone altar in the middle of the dungeon. The air was magically warmed so as to make them more comfortable and magical torches had been lit all around the room. Dumbledore had a long, white staff in his hands, and he stood by Harry's head. The other six people formed a circle around them, evenly spaced out.

"You are all here because I trust you, and also because you are the closest people I know who are also powerful enough to sustain and complete this ritual. This will be very draining and it will take some time, but know that if we fail we are lost. Come now, let us waste no more time in speech. Is everyone ready?" Dumbledore said, looking around at them all.

Once everyone readied themselves, Dumbledore started to chant. Everyone else followed soon after. They all knew their parts and they would do it well, he knew that for certain. He just hoped they were not too late. He glanced down at the broken body of a boy he loved so dearly and thought of as his own son, a boy.... no, a young man who was hanging on to life by a thread.

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**Author's Notes: **I will update this as quickly and as much as I can, but I am very busy so please bear with me. I do love reviews please, feedback is always appreciated, just don't flame.


	3. Knock, Knock

**Note: **The chapters will be getting longer as the story goes on.

**DISCLAIMER:** JK Rowling owns HP, not me.

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** The Demon Within**

_Knock, Knock  


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_Ministry of Magic..._

It had been days since the last Death Eater sighting, and the whole Ministry was starting to get anxious. Fear and nervousness were prevalent in Ministry officials, from the lowest ranking to the Minister himself. All contacts, whether they be spies or leaks, had been silenced over the last few days, most of them disappeared, the rest too fearful of their lives to approach the Ministry once more. The lack of Death Eater activity, at least activity that the Ministry should be picking up, meant that something big was about to happen.

Minister Cornelius Fudge sat at the head of the long, dark, oak conference table. It had been approximately eight days since the Department of Mysteries incident, and he had lost much support and face because of that. The Ministry was penetrated so easily by the Death Eaters that it did not help to instill confidence in the populous at a time when support for the Ministry was needed more than ever before. With the Dark Lord Voldemort marshaling his forces and expanding his operations, the people are more likely to be swayed to join him if they see no other better options.

His short, portly body was drenched in sweat, though it was quite cool in the conference room. He nervously wiped sweat away with a handkerchief charmed to dry within seconds of getting wet. He was extremely frightened, not only for his life but for his job as well. He knew there were murmurs here and there, quick meetings held between the heads of the various departments. He knew that all seven heads of departments in this very room despised him and thought little of him. For a brief moment his anger flared, but then it died again and fear returned once more.

Whenever he gave them orders he knew they deliberately carried them out as slowly as possible, and he also knew that they acted without asking him permission in certain tasks that required it. In fact, his title and position as Minister seemed to becoming more trivial by the hour. He swallowed hard, as if feeling the noose around his neck tighten. The Wizengamot was convening in two days after their recess, and he knew that someone would call for his removal. Fudge's small, beady eyes darted back and forth, eying each of the wizards and witches present in the room, wondering which one of them still supported him.

There was Ludo Bagman head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Harold Finniwickit head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Percy Weasley recently promoted to head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Amelia Bones head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Sarah Stites head of the Department of Mysteries, Brenner Vrojcik head of the Department of Magical Transportation, Chelsea Sparta head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and a representative from the North American Federation Council (NAFC), which represented the interests of the wizarding communities in the United States and Canada.

They were all talking quietly amongst themselves, with no one really paying much attention to Fudge, and he scowled at that. He may not have been the best Minister, but he was still the Minister, and he deserved the respect entitled to that office. How he wished that he could just join the Dark Lord, but he knew that he would never do that because he was too afraid of him.

"Ahem. Excuse me, excuse me please. I'd like to get this meeting in order," Fudge finally managed to squeak out, successfully silencing the group. "Ah, thank you.... well I'd like to start by sa-" he started to say but he was cut off by Amelia Bones.

"I suggest that we get right down to business, Minister. Status reports for every department would be the best option, followed by my current intelligence reports, then perhaps the NAFC," she paused to look at the representative, who bowed his head in acknowledgement, "can chime in. We are short on time, people, the Death Eaters are planning something and the quicker we get a plan of action the better off we'll all be."

Everyone quickly agreed and the reports started as Fudge slowly began to be edged out of the meeting entirely. He soon decided that he had had enough and left, slamming the door as hard as he could behind him. He seethed with anger and he wrung his hands together, muttering all the while as he walked towards his office, making some of the people in the hall give him strange looks. He passed several security checkpoints, each manned by experienced Aurors, until he at last reached the outer room of his office. He greeted the four Hit Wizards that were on duty there and also his secretary.

He entered his office and shut the door. He closed his eyes then breathed in deeply as he rested his pudgy frame against the heavy wooden door. Sliding down to the ground, he let out the breath he was holding as he tried to calm himself down and think.

"Rough day?" a very familiar voice asked, startling him.

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_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..._

Dumbledore paced back and forth in his office, one hand behind his back and the other fiddling with his beard. He was still feeling drained from the ritual, but so far as he knew it had gone perfectly well. He had tried to look for more information on the ritual, but he had found nothing else. The ritual had no name, which made it harder to find amongst the many thousands of books and tomes that were available to him. He was feeling a little regretful for rushing the ritual so quickly before he had found out more about it, but from the description in the very ancient tome that he had read it served their purposes well, and as far as he knew it worked.

A great amount of joy and hope was restored upon seeing Harry fully healed and complete again. His injuries were nonexistent, and even his scar had faded some. The ritual worked so well that in fact, it seemed as if he were a bit taller and a bit bigger, muscle-wise, than Dumbledore last remembered though he was not entirely sure. There was nothing to be worried about, and as Harry's magical reserves and strength slowly started to return, he should wake up sometime within the next few days. He was tempted to probe Harry's mind while he was asleep, but he decided against it.

He must first ascertain that Harry is alright, then maybe he can probe around later on, with Harry's permission of course. He must be sure that Voldemort did not place something in Harry's mind that might be activated later on, and he must also be sure that Harry's mind is intact. He gave strict orders to Madam Pomfrey that as soon as the young man was awake, she would inform him immediately. Dumbledore must be the first one to speak to him, to check if he is still indeed the Harry they all knew. One of the things he opted not to inform the others was that due to the dark magic involved and the injuries that Harry sustained, his mind was also seriously crippled, and though Dumbledore quickly went into his mind and helped to keep Harry's "identity," or "spirit" as some would call it, intact, he was not sure if he was able to save him.

He stopped and looked out the window of his office, watching the sun begin its slow descent down to the horizon. The old headmaster wondered whether the person that would emerge from the young man would still be Harry James Potter, or quite possibly someone else. Mental damage was always tricky, which was why he had tried to bring Harry's mental defenses up, unbeknownst to the others, earlier in the year.

His thoughts returned to the ritual that he and the others had performed. For almost six hours they worked to complete the ritual, and at the end of it three had collapsed from physical, mental, and magical exhaustion. It was the price to be paid to return their one hope to his full potential. He hoped that the ritual would not turn out to be a mistake, but to be sure he returned to his desk and started reading the thick tome on his desk.

* * *

_Minister's Office, Ministry of Magic..._

"Lucius? What are you doing here? Who let you in?" Fudge was confused. He had given his men orders not to let anyone in, and yet here was Lucius Malfoy, sitting in his chair. His feet were crossed and resting on Fudge's desk. A long, black cane with a silver snake for a handle rested in the man's lap. His long, pale blond hair went past his shoulders and the man's cold gray eyes watched Fudge with a hint of amusement, possibly at his confusion.

"Well, I did not come through.... regular means." A small smile played on his lips as the Minister's bewilderment increased.

"But... then... wait... what? How...??" was all he managed to spit out as Lucius stood up in one swift and graceful movement, throwing the cane up high and then catching it on its way down with a very faint thud as the cane hit his gloved hands.

"Why, my master of course. You did not think the Heir of Slytherin did not know any other ways to get into the Minister's office?" Lucius edged closer to the Minister, who was still on the ground, wide-eyed.

Fudge reached for his wand.

"Ah-ah! Don't get any ideas, Fudge, not that you'd get much if you tried..." the elder Malfoy said, flashing a smile that exposed perfect rows of pearly white teeth.

"You traitor! Traitor! GUARDS!!" Fudge sputtered.

A flash of green light filled the room, but as quickly as it came it disappeared, leaving Fudge's lifeless eyes and an empty office as the Hit Wizards burst through the door, sending wooden splinters flying as they launched themselves in. They were tensed, eyes darting around, wands at the ready, but there was no one there save the dead Minister.

Moments later, an Auror entered the conference room, prompting a silence as all eyes in the room turned to him. Unpeturbed, the Auror walked swiftly over to Amelia Bones, bent close to her ear and whispered something.

"Fudge is dead," she announced, shocking everyone in the room. Sure, they hated him and thought him a pitifully useless piece of scum, but they did not expect him to be killed so suddenly. "He was killed in his office. No trace of the killer, no clues, no evidence. We have nothing."

There was a stunned silence once again. There was a strong sense of fear and panic among them, with only a few remaining calm enough to listen as Amelia explained what little details they did know.

"There is obviously something happening soon. They would not kill off the Minister without a reason, we're somewhat leaderless as of the moment," Chelsea spoke, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Yes, indeed this will be troublesome. Perhaps we should shut down all transportation networks for now. It could limit their movements, and it will also prevent problems should there be a panic caused by the death of the Minister. He may have been unpopular, but he was still the Minister, and him being killed right under our noses won't sit well with the people," Brenner suggested, since he was the head of Transportation. "We'll try to monitor any unauthorized transports in the country, but that will be extremely difficult, even if I reallocate all my personnel to the task."

"Try, we might get lucky," Amelia told him, holding his gaze before he finally nodded. "Good, well first we must discuss what we are to do at the moment. Something big is obviously about to happen, but where would they strike? They could strike Azkaban, but we tripled the guard there, though we did sacrifice a lot of personnel to do so. We've abandoned unecessary posts and safehouses and recalled a majority of our international personnel, but even then we're outnumbered. Recruits are being given the accelerated training program in the hopes that they will be ready to fight soon. They might not help much, their experience very limited and training not adequate, but they will add wands to our forces."

Then suddenly, the entire room shook violently as a loud boom emanated from somewhere in the distance. The ground shook again, forcing all the people in the conference room to hold on to the table tightly as their chairs threatened to fall over. Dust and dirt fell from the stone ceiling as the alarms began to blare.

The Ministry of Magic was under attack.

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**Author's Notes: **Review! Review! Review!


	4. The Hammer Falls

**Note: **Thanks for reading! If you can, please put in a little review. I want to know what you think.

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry Potter is not mine.

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** The Demon Within**

_The Hammer Falls  


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Hermione sat by her window, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky shifted to produce a cascading array of beautiful colors. Her eyes followed a lone cloud as it drifted lazily through the darkening sky. She brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face as she leaned against the window pane, feeling the cool glass on her skin. She sighed and closed her eyes. She had been devastated by what had happened during the Department of Mysteries screw up, not only because they had been reckless and had nearly lost their lives, but also because Harry was gone.

She still could not stomach the fact that he was gone. _Gone_. Here she was, safe and sound, though shaken by the incident, and yet Harry was still out there, probably in some dungeon, being beaten and tortured. She bit her lip, thinking of what she could do to find and save him, though she knew that was a dream at best. He could be anywhere in the world, not to mention he was probably very close to Voldemort and so to get to him meant facing one of the darkest and most powerful wizards in history. Though she did not shrink from such a confrontation, she knew well enough that she could not take him by herself, let alone with all the Death Eaters bound to be around him wherever he was.

Looking back, she realized that she should have protested more and been more adamant about them not going to the Ministry and acting so rashly. If only she had been stronger and resisted him more. They would have all been safe and she would not have broken into tears, crying for hours, over the last few days. She glanced at the empty owl cage in the corner of her room and wondered if Harry had received her message.

Hermione had tried on several occasions over the last few days to get Hedwig to send a short note to Harry in the hopes that if she did fly off she would know that he was at least alive, and maybe, possibly, even safe. After all, being so close to Voldemort, there must be some sort of wards and spells that deter even owls from sensing someone and thus the only way Hedwig would be able to do so would be if Harry was away from him. She had had no luck yet though, but that had not kept her from trying. Hedwig was just as adamant to try to get through to Harry as she was, and Hermione was glad that she had her for that very purpose.

Her parents had been informed of what happened, though she had wished that Dumbledore had not told them as they were now very concerned over her safety. Her parents, both muggles, had tried to understand the situation she was in, but she knew that they could not fully grasp what was happening. Besides, she was not very forthcoming with all the details. They were still her parents, after all, and they had already tried to keep her from going to Hogwarts on a number of occasions over the past few years. Only their respect and trust of their daughter, not to mention the fact that she would have probably gone anyway, had allowed her to continue to attend Hogwarts.

She loved her parents, very much so, and she knew that they loved her too, but she disagreed with them about her safety.

"With Voldemort, safety has a time-limit. Until he's stopped, nowhere is safe," she had said. She tried to explain further, and though her parents said they understood, she was not sure they grasped the situation fully. It was because of their.... their muggleness that they did not truly understand, but she could not blame them for that. They were acting like concerned parents after all, and their lack of complete comprehension was understandable.

They had tried to convince her not to go back to school again and they had even suggested moving, but she held firm and told them that she would not. She could not run away from her friends and she would not shrink from fighting Voldemort or his Death Eaters, not while she could do something about it all. The wizarding world was her's now, she belonged in it, and she knew that she could never leave it behind. More importantly, however, she could not leave Harry. No, she could _not_leave him.

The sun was already below the horizon and the sky was quickly darkening by the time she turned away from the window. Her parents called her down to dinner, and though she did not feel hungry, she went anyway. She would need her strength for the days to come.

* * *

_The Atrium, Ministry of Magic..._

The dark, wooden floor was ablaze in a few places as holes, cracks, burn-marks, and blood covered the entire Atrium. The Ministry's forces in the Atrium had been defeated, and Lucius grinned madly as he finished off one of the last surviving Aurors with a decapitating spell. Blood splatters dotted his robe and he limped a little, but for the most part he was unharmed. They had lost a good number of Death Eaters in the process, but there were more than enough in the ranks to fill up their spots and continue on.

The golden statues of the Fountain of Magical Brethren were toppled over, and the fountain sputtered blood-red water from the broken bases where the statues had once stood. The fireplaces on either side of the Atrium were dead, and some had caved in or were utterly obliterated. All that remained unscathed were the golden gates at the other end of the Atrium. A pair of thick, golden gates that towered over everything as they stood twenty-five feet high in all their glory.

Lucius signaled to a Death Eater who was his second-in-command for this mission and told him to get more reinforcements. He then ordered the remaining Death Eaters to surround the gates and wait for his signal to commence breaching. He licked his lips in anticipation of the battles to come and wondered how the other members of the Inner Circle were fairing in their missions.

* * *

_City of Truro, Cornwall, England..._

The city was ablaze. The setting sun amplified the fiery red light that emanated from every street corner as the Death Eaters wreaked havoc. Hundreds lay motionless on the streets as explosions thundered and boomed throughout the small city of about 20,000. Screaming and yelling echoed down the cobbled streets as chaos spilled the cup of order and death passed through every home.

Truro is the southernmost city in all of England and is the centerpiece of Cornwall county, a great beginning target for the Death Eaters. The Truro Cathedral bell tower was toppled over as thick plumes of smoke that rose up to the sky from all across the city formed an enormous black cloud that hovered over the entire city.

Antonin Dolohov tore up the cobbled street with a few quick jabs of his wand and formed a floating stone barrier, which he used as a shield, in front of him. The remaining law enforcement officers were staging a final stand at the Hall of Cornwall, a large theater, and their bullets, though scoffed at by most Death Eaters, were particularly effective at killing nonetheless. Sure enough, as he approached the theater, shots were fired at him and the bullets thudded into the floating stone barrier in front of him.

As soon as he was close enough, he quickly made a circular motion with his wand and then thrust it forward, sending an orange beam of light at the barrier. Then, he swiftly formed a magical barrier in front of him as the stone barrier exploded outward towards the theater, sending hundreds of stone pieces hurtling at high speed at the building. Cries of pain erupted and the shooting stopped momentarily, enough time for Dolohov to run up to the doors and pummel them inwards with a thrust of his wand.

With a loud yell as he concentrated a vast amount of magical energy into one powerful spell, he flicked his wand towards the open entrance and sent a large six-by-six foot ball of black flame into the theater. After doing so, he ran for cover away from the theater, and just in time as a thick wall of black flame erupted outwards from the open entrance. Black flames spewed from all the windows, shattering them as they sought to escape from the theater. Horrible cries of pain and anguish echoed from the building as the black flames consumed everything in its path.

Smiling, Dolohov caught sight of a group of Death Eater and called out to them. There was more work to be done, and the Dark Lord wanted nothing less than a thorough and successful mission.

* * *

_Portsmouth, England..._

Bellatrix Lestrange cackled with glee as she tore through a group of sailors with a quick and simple wave of her wand. Bullets sparked and bounced off of the shield she had placed around herself. She stole a quick glance over at the other Death Eater groups, led by her two brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan, and saw that they were doing well. Her brothers had already sunk five ships and were moving swiftly and efficiently towards the remaining ships in the naval base.

The Dark Lord had made it exceptionally important that the muggles be stripped of their military capabilities, because though they were weak in comparison to magic, they could still kill a wizard or witch. The naval base at Portsmouth was home to a majority of the ships in the British fleet, though it was not the largest naval base in Britain. There were two other naval bases, which the Death Eaters would later take care of, but for now the focus was on Portsmouth.

Her group of Death Eaters faltered slightly as explosions erupted around them, instantly killing five Death Eaters and injuring a few more. They cried out in pain and Bellatrix decided to kill the one closest to her due to her annoyance at his screaming.

Her eyes glowed with power as she rallied the group to attack the fortified positions the muggle soldiers had quickly taken. They would root them out and kill them all, she would make sure of that. The muggles started shooting once again, sending bullets their way that were answered by bright bolts of light as the Death Eaters mounted their assault, a haphazard charge that saw a good number die from the "stupid muggle weapons."

In the distance, the HMS _Illustrious_, one of Britain's aircraft carriers, spewed smoke from dozens of places and tiny explosions on its deck could be seen flashing in the distance. As night arrived, an enormous explosion illuminated the base for a few seconds as the _Illustrious_ was severed in half and began to sink. The hammer had fallen, and both the magical and muggle worlds of Britain had been caught off guard.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I really do appreciate reviews, if you can't tell already.


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